


Love me, Paint me, and from our Denial, Unbind me

by archerkink (runawaygirl)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygirl/pseuds/archerkink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tim gains, loses, and regains a vigilante boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love me, Paint me, and from our Denial, Unbind me

\--

At first, Tim was terrified that he’d be told to stop going out at night and to hand over his photograph collection or Robin would sic Batman on him. Which would be understandably disappointing, because Tim would have to reveal that he knew their identities to force a stalemate because there was no way in hell he was going to stop taking photos. But that didn’t happen.

 

Sure, Robin had explained to him the dangers of running around at night unnarmed and unskilled, doing the dangerous things he’s doing, going the dangerous places he’s going; but he’d also grinned and said he really wasn’t in any position to tell him what to do, considering their smiliar ages and such.

(He wonders to this day, if Batman knew about him and just didn’t want to deal with a minor annoyance. He also wondered if Robin befriending him had more to with some sort of teenage rebellion rather than actually wanting a friend. He also *also* wonders if Batman knows that the mysterious informant leaving clues for him to find is actually him.)

Robin the Second likes to try and sneak up on him, whether it’s on patrol or turning in for the night. Tim’s mostly just scowls a little at the ‘stalker’ jokes and listens to him bitch about Batman.  

Then there are the touches.

Mostly, Tim’s not sure if he likes them. They usually consists of arm punches and headlocks and thumps on the back. He’d never given much thought to what would happen if one of the obsessions turned around and caught him one day. Not if they were okay with what Tim was up to anyway.

But so far, all that had happened was sharing late-night lunches and huddling under Robin’s cape when it started raining. And the occasional bedmate.

Nothing lewd, Tim blushed and gaped too much for that, and he’d had a sinking suspicion that Robin thought he was about about 12 rather than 15, but--

There was nothing he could _do_ about being small--

Robin would kick off his shoes so hard they’d hit the wall, forcing Tim to shush him, and then strip off  his cape and tunic (reinforced kevlar, who knew?) then settle down next to Tim and chatter on about nothing and everything until he eventually started snoozing. He snored, too. And he’d never stayed until morning.

Tonight is a little different.

Tim’s still wary of his visits and always checks the loose floorboard under his bed to make sure his secret photo cache hasn’t been tampered with, but it’s…nice to have a presence that isn’t his own or Mrs Mac’s in the house.

Robin hops through his open window with all the grace of a bird and sighs heavily before flopping face-first onto Tim’s bed. He has the plain sheets on his bed, after getting rid of the Superman ones when Robin made a snide comment. The Boy Wonder groans and mumbles into his sheets. 

“Didn’t quite catch that, Robin.” Tim says sleepily. 

Robin turns his head. “Shut _up_. Get any good photos tonight?”

“Didn’t go out, actually. Not all of us get to take days off just because we’re a little tired.”

Robin snickers. “You are such a little bitch, you know that?” He digs under Tim’s sheets and gets a grip on his ankle. Tim has just enough time to squeak before getting pulled halfway down the bed. “Now, come on, sit up. I need to tell you something.”

Tim huffs out a breath and props himself up on an arm, facing Robin. 

“I think I’m gonna…go away for a little while.”

Tim frowns. “Where? Why?”

“I gotta--“ Robin scrubs down his face with one hand. “I gotta go take care of something. And I can’t--“ He blows a breath out his lips. “I couldn’t go without telling you.”

Tim bites the inside of his cheek. “You’re--you think you might not come back?”

“How---gah. Sometimes I forget there’s a brain under that stalker-ness.”

Tim glowers. “Be serious. You’re doing something dangerous.”

“And running around fighting crime in panties and pixie boots isn’t dangerous?”

“You know what I mean. What makes you think you won’t be back? Do I--do you need me to call someone or--“

“No! No. I just,” Robin sighs and fiddles with the side of his mask momentarily. The lenses retract, and his eyes are teal underneath, and almost pleading. “I gotta do this on my own. I thought I should tell you because--well, because you’re kind of my boyfriend.”

Tim blinks. _Well_. “Since when?”

Robin’s grin is lazy and happy, and makes him kind of look like a goofy shark. “Uhh, since I found you taking photos of my in all my bare-legged glory? Seriously, babe, if you wanted a feel you could’ve just asked.” Tim’s fairly certain he learned the eyebrow waggle thing from Robin the First.

Tim’s arm gives out, and he resigns to lie on his side, facing Robin. “I think I’ve a hit a new level of oblivious.” He says wearily.

Robin’s grin melts into a smile far less assured. “Really.”

“Well, I’ve apparently been dating my childhood crush for the past couple of months, and just when I realise it, he’s going off to get himself killed. Or mysteriously disappear, whatever.” He pauses. “Will you at least try to get back? I’ve never had a…boyfriend before. I’d hate to have to lose you just when I…when I…”

“Fell for me?”

“Shut up.” He curls in on himself a little. “You haven’t even taken me out on a real date. Those spontaneous rooftop picnics don’t count.” He says before Robin can open his mouth to protest. 

He slides up the bed, prods at Tim’s shoulder to get him up. Tim crawls up beside him, miserable and sullen. “When are you leaving?”

“Don’t know. Soon?”

“And you don’t think you’ll be back.”

“I just have a bad feeling.”

“And you’re not telling Batman.”

Robin pauses. “No.” he says finally. “Tim, I-“

“Why did you bother with me if you were just going to leave?” 

“Hey, that’s not fair--“

“You always do stupid, reckless things but I never thought you’d--“

“I’m doing it for my mother.”

Tim turns at him and stares. Robin’s shoulders sag. He’s seen broody Robin, after a particularly bad fight with Batman or a nasty run-in with one of Gotham’s criminal element, but he’d always exuded anger until Tim coaxed him out of it. Right now, he just looks…sad.  He clears his throat. “She’s my real mom, and I just…I gotta find her. I gotta see her.” He turns to face Tim, as if willing him to understand.

Tim doesn’t. He’d long since given up chasin after his parents. Robin knows that he doesn’t like to talk about them but--

He’s giving him this, and it’s…warm. Unexpected, but warm. Tim sucks in his bottom lip. “You’re not asking me for permission are you? Because I’m pretty sure you’re gonna go even if I don’t want you to.”

Robin winces and shifts. Tim waits for a nudge on the shoulder and gets his hand covered by a rough green gauntlet instead. Tim doesn’t look at him. “Forget what I said about the bad feeling. That was stupid of me. I didn’t want you to worry or anything.”

Tim presses his lips together. “Promise me you’ll be back?”

“You know I can’t--“

“You’re my _boyfriend_. You’re supposed to humour me.”

Robin tugs his hand away and Tim’s too afraid to look in case he’s said the wrong thing or that he’d decided to leave Tim to his whining. But the presence doesnt shift from his bed, so Tim counts that as a victory. 

“Look at me.”

Tim blinks up at him and feels himself tense. Robin had taken off his mask, and he knows what Jason Todd looks like. But it’s completely different watching him from afar at galas and seeing his face up close, tired and focused on him. “I promise to take on a real date when I get back?” he smiles a little. “I’ll even use B’s money to book us a table at some fancy-shmancy resteraunt place. Sound good?”

Tim glares at him, but with the lump caught in his throat, it feels more like a glower than a glare. He sighs and leans into his boyfriend's side in silence.

\--

It’s a year later and Mrs Mac calls Tim down in a panic. At first, Tim’s heart sinks a little. What if it was news from the hospital about Dad? He doesn’t think he can losing both his parents--

“There's someone at the door for you. He says to bring your camera,” Mrs Mac says uncertainly, and Tim frowns before hesitantly dusting off the modified camera and hanging it around his neck before stumbling down the stairs. Mrs Mac’s brow is furrowed. “Outside, dear.”

Tim frowns, then ventures into the foyer and pulls open the door she left ajar. Outside stands dark-haired man wearing a leather jacket. There’s a tuft of white in his hair, one Tim doesn’t remember, but his eyes are teal and tired-looking, and  he had _heard_ about a new vigilante in town, but he tried not to think about it when his parents--

He shuts the door behind him, ignoring Mrs Mac’s protests. 

-

Tim takes a few shots of the lingering frost on trees, birds settled on branches and children running around in the park with scarves streaming behind them. Jason says nothing for the most part, and Tim has yet to look him in the eye.

Jason catches him by the elbow finally, and holds on until Tim finally sighs. He smiles up at him; Jason’s grown. He smiles sharply. “It’s been a hell of a year.” he says. “I almost forgot how it feels to hold a camera.”

Jason opens his mouth to speak but Tim cuts him off. “My boyfriend died about a year ago. My parents were in a tragic accident in October while they were vacationing in Haiti. Lost my mother. My father’s in Gotham General, at the moment. In a coma.” 

Jason winces beside him. “Tim, I--“

“I looked for him. My boyfriend, I mean. I kept--I kept looking. I tried following Batman. I tried getting involved with my mother’s old contacts in the League of Shadows--yes, I know about them- I even asked _Batgirl_ about--him.”

“You...talk to Batgirl?”

Tim snorts. “Not exactly. She doesn’t say much.”

Jason mouths an ‘oh’, and takes a deep breath. “I’m--I’m sorry. About everything,”

“Not your fault.” Tim says breezily, blinking away tears. He feels like laughing. “Can I tell you about him? My boyfriend? His name was Robin. I think I might been in love with him, but I don’t know. There were family troubles. He told me he might not make it back. Even though he promised me he would. I don’t know.” He says again. “There’s a new Robin. She’s a girl, and I’ve seen her on TV. She’s really good. I think her uppercut is better than Batman’s.” 

Jason snorts, but still looks queasy, like he’s going to throw up.

“Anyway, I stopped following vigilantes around for a while. Then my parents went to Haiti. I never found my…my Robin.”

“Tim, I was in bad shape.” Jason says hastily. “I--there was an _explosion_. Bruce barely got there in time. I didn’t--I _told_ him to tell you I was _okay_ \--“

“It’s fine.” Tim says in that same dreadfully calm voice. “Sorry about that. Under some stress at the moment, you know? I’m pretty sure I have to cut my Dad’s life support some time this week. I’ve already filled out the forms to become an emancipated minor. I’d have to take over the business, too. And send Mrs Mac back to Ireland.” He breathes in deep and smiles, turning back to Jason. “So thanks for this. I needed a break.” He can’t quite stop that tear rolling down his cheek.

Jason’s face crumples and he murmurs “No,” under his breath before dragging Tim into a fullbody hug that showed just how much taller Jason’s gotten than him. Tim pushes back, bringing the camera up between them. Jason pulls back, confused, as Tim presses the shutter on his camera. 

“For posterity.” He explains to Jason’s crestfallen expression. “Now, uh,” he wipes at his eyes. “Take me home before I cause a scene.”

\--

If these were normal handcuffs, Tim could easily dislocate his thumb and slip his hands out, then pop it back in while running the hell away. Only, these are ropes, and they chafe the more he struggles. Tim’s fairly certain Gotham’s vigilantes take responsibility for kidnapped CEO’s from their city, so really all he has to do is sit tight.

Only, Tim has never really been one to leave his fate in other peoples' hands. Hopefully they won’t ask for an explanation why the League of Shadows were involved. He’s not sure he wants to explain that to Batman. But then again, if telling Batman means he can live past his next birthday--

The angry sounds outside die down, and the door slides open. Tim blinks, adjusting to the light.  Renegade leans over him, cutting through the ropes around his wrists. “Don’t worry, Mr Drake, we’ll have you outta here in no time.” He undoes the gag around Tim’s neck.

“Wait, there’s a tripwire--“

Gas fills the room, and Renegade ’s rebreather is that last thing Tim sees.

-

Jason is smirking at Tim from the other side of the room while he sits up, unsettled, in one of the beds in Wayne Manor. There are bandages around his wrists, and cradling his bruised ribs.

“Um, how long have I been asleep?” He asks warily.

“About an hour. No serious damage, before you ask.” And somehow, Jason’s smirk gets smugger.

“How long am I staying?”

“You can leave once Bruce runs your blood analysis down in the cave.”

“The--cave. Right.” Tim looks away and ends up staring at the walls. They’re plastered in old posters. There’s a basketball in the corner of the room. The lamp is missing it’s shade. Tim blinks. “This is your room.”

“Sure is.” Jason saunters closer to his and sits down. His hand creeps under the downey blanket to grip his ankle. Tim tenses at how…possessive it feels. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you actually.” He gives his ankle a squeeze. “I don’t think I ever introduced myself properly to you. My name’s Jason Todd, but the media circus thinks of me as Jason Todd-Wayne, regardless of how stupid that sounds.” The grins get wider the higher Tim’s eyebrows rise. “I’m also one of the vigilantes that plague Gotham's streets at night. My handle is ‘Renegade’. My brother helped me pick it out, much to our Dad’s dismay.” 

Tim purses his lips, then eyes Jason apprehensively. “Tim Drake, CEO of Drake Industries.”

“Mind if I ask you something, Tim?”

Tim swallows. He isn’t sure how long he can keep this charade up. He’s been doing it for the past seven years at this point. “And what would that be, Jason?”

“Just what would the League of Assassin’s want with a CEO?”

Tim arches a brow. “If you must know, they wanted me to square my debt with them.”

“Uh-huh.” Jason drawls. “This is about your boyfriend, isn’t it? The one that died? You shouldn’t spend so much time dwelling on the past, baby.”

Tim’s eyes flash to his, and there’s something satisfying in the way Jason’s grin falters under his gaze. “What do you suggest?”

Jason releases his ankle to cup his hands. “I’m sorry about your Robin. I’m sorry he died. But you know, you’re alive. Even though he isn’t. Even though,” he hesitates. “Look, you’re--I’ve made reservations for two at some gross lobster place downtown this Friday. I want you to go with me.” He peers up from under his whitish bangs and smirks. “Pretty please?”

Tim bites his lip. “It’s my birthday on Friday.”

“What an _interesting_ coincidence.” Jason coos.

Tim laughs quietly, bringing his gaze to the hand covering his. He lifts his fingers and lace them with Jason’s. “I’d like that, Jay.”


End file.
